


Iris West and The Sexy Thigh High Boots

by writers_blocc



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry Is Dirty, Canon, F/M, Fantasy, Iris Knows Things, Lemon, West/Allen - Freeform, thigh highs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 15:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6616561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writers_blocc/pseuds/writers_blocc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry has a new appreciation for thigh high boots. Especially on Iris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iris West and The Sexy Thigh High Boots

**Author's Note:**

> I have thoughts.  
> Suggestive thoughts.  
> I thought I'd write them down.

Barry takes notice to them on one of his rare days off.

The last two weeks in Central City have been quiet. There were no criminals for The Flash to catch – and no crime for Barry Allen to solve in his lab. 

For all intense and purposes, Barry had a DVR queue that needed to be watched – but here he found himself in his lab anyway. _There was always work to be done,_ Singh would say. But right now, Barry would have to disagree with that. He would much rather be at home, lounging around in his PJs, and catching up on The Walking Dead – but one phone call from Captain Singh and here he was, four hours later. 

Barry kicked back in his chair, his long legs being the only things that kept him anchored to the floor while he mindlessly read over a report from a case he solved a month ago. Another meta-human attempted to rob a bank (as that seemed to be their shtick). This one could disappear and reappear in plain sight. Cisco thought the Invisible man had been done one too many times, went with a Harry Potter reference instead. Thus The Master of the Cloak had been born. It didn’t take the team long to figure out how to stop him and after constructing a pair goggles that could detect heat motion; the bad guy had been put away once again. 

All thanks to Team Flash. 

Barry didn’t want to brag but ever since getting his powers back and defeating Zoom, Team Flash worked like a well-oiled machine. Better than ever really. Central City had never been safer, or quieter. Every once in the while they’d get something, but other than that, life had seemed to go back to normal. 

"Better be careful."

Ironically, her warning is what breaks his focus and set him awry. He's starring up at the ceiling, chair toppled beside him when she walks into his line of vision. Her brown eyes set with mischief to contrast her bright smile. "I told you to be careful." She teases.

Barry is tickled. Of all time for his cat like reflexes to fail him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She offers him a hand which he gladly accepts. He is back on his feet, swiping at the dust on the pad of his jeans when his gaze travels to her, starting at her toes he works his way up (like he always does) when he stops mid-thigh.

“T-Those are new.” 

“These old things,” she extended her leg to really show them off, and holy hell. 

Iris has always had a thing for boots. And Barry has always appreciated her style – but these were suede and they had a heel on them that made her legs look even longer – _sexier._ There was no way they were old – he would have noticed. Barry would have definitely taken notice. 

Ever since the particle accelerator exploded, Barry's heart beat just a little too fast but now he could feel it screeching to a rickety halt. Because damn, if he’d never had a fantasy starring Iris before, today would’ve been the start of an all new adventure. He should be ashamed, objectifying his best friend like this, picturing her in all the ways he could take her, but his mind would not shut up. 

“My eyes are up here.” 

He should really look away, but as previously stated before: Holy _fudging_ Hell. 

"Yeah," he coughs, "yeah," he's trying to work his way up to her face but – _come on_. Some higher being (or deity or whatever) is certainly out to test him at the moment because all he can see are the boots and the smooth brown skin of her thighs. 

Barry can’t even begin to count on his hand (Caitlin, Cisco’s – or anyone else’s hands for that matter) how many times he’s imagined her naked thighs wrapped around his waist. 

"I'm flattered Barry," Iris lifts his chin so he's starring openly at her now. "Really I am, but I need you to pay attention." She lifts a folder between them, thick with articles from CCPN. "I kind of need your help."

"Yeah, yeah," Barry swallows thickly. 

Barry is fully aware that he lacks the proper coherency at the moment because ‘yeah’ seems to be the only thing he can articulate, but he feels justified for said state because would you just look at her! With her amazing smile, warm eyes and body and now the boots. The damn boots.

Jesus – someone, anyone – _please_ just take the wheel.

He's sitting in his chair, and she on his desk; one thigh crossed over the other and Barry knows he is slack jawed. Barry knows that he should be paying attention. He knows that his best friend needs his help and that he should be focused but the pre-pubescent Barry, the one who’s had a crush on Iris for as long as he can remember is rearing its ugly head. That side of Barry is doing a fantastic job at keeping his attention exactly where it is.

He can hear her theorizing in the way that she does but, "Barry," she snaps her fingers in his face and he jumps, snapping out of his own little world to look up. “You’re not listening.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he imagines her whispering that against the shell of his ear. In this version of them together, he has her against the desk and he’s nestled in between her wondrous thighs. She’s digging the heel of her boots into his backside because he’s not following instructions. She wants it harder – and dear God does he want to give it to her. “Barry.”

"Sorry."

Iris is eyeing him in that way. The way that says he's been caught red handed. “So you think the Gotham City mob is up to something?” At least that's what he thinks they’re talking about.

The lab is silent for a moment, and from his peripherals he can see her eyeing him, testing him. He clears his throat loudly. “What?”

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” It was a lie if he’d ever heard one.

“Liar.”

“I’m,” he clears his throat again. A nasty habit of his whenever he runs out of things to say. “Not.” 

“Yes, you are.” She says it like she means it. Like she knows him so well, and any other time he would concede that she does. Iris Ann West knows Barry Henry Allen more than he knows himself sometimes. But.

But she couldn’t possibly know that he wanted to run his hands up the material of her boots, slowly, inching and teasing his way up to dust his fingertips at the start of her thigh.

She couldn’t possibly know that he didn’t want to stop there, because the real destination was under her skirt, where the most intimate parts of her lay.

There was no way Iris could know that he wanted to lock the door of his lab – clear his desk off and lean her back on to it. 

How could she know that he wanted her wrapped around his waist, as their bodies touched skin to skin?

Did she know how deep he wanted inside of her, touching her in places that no one else could reach? How he would drape her legs over his shoulders to achieve such things.

And there was no way she could know that he wanted to plant his face in between her thighs, and taste her into a quivering mess. How could she know that he wanted her to sit on his face and ride her way into bliss?

Lord, he hoped not. 

Barry crosses his leg over the other, mouth opening and closing as he settles back into the chair, daring to look Iris in the eye. He shrugs, “No, I’m not.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Praise the Speedforce](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032606) by [AGDoren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGDoren/pseuds/AGDoren)




End file.
